one too many Arsenals.


balance.
the hard and the soft.
the loose and the tight.
the fast and the slow.
the yes and the no.


art.
its appreciation requires acquired taste and experienced judgement.
smell the fresh paint on canvas, hung up on the wall.
each line so strong and bold, crips and defined: the water as water and the sky as the sky.
every character a separate entity, a distinct self.
colours and brushstrokes nothing short of vibrant, rushing and uninhibited.
but let it endure several winds.
lines fade and boundaries blur, as confused colours begin to merge into one another.
identity encompassing identity, who are you anymore.
the once rugged terrains of strength mellow to give way to smooth, unprovoking textures.
but we humans display the reverse.
resist the urge to fight the inevitable.
just come and come to terms.


dishonesty and impression management, conscious or otherwise, get in the way of good beer and soccer.


so many possibilities for disillusionment.
so many opportunities to slip and fall.


goodnight, grandpa.
sleep well.


i was once lost, but now am found
was blind but now i see.

perfection at 8:01 PM